


No Release

by Tarlan



Category: Traders (TV 1995)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-29
Updated: 2009-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spell in prison gives Jack a glimpse of freedom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Release

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **smallfandomfest** FEST05 and **smallfandomflsh** #15. Chocolate  
>  Also for: **MMOM2009** Challenge - Day 29

It was his own fault for not keeping his fists at his sides and for not keeping his mouth shut. Contempt of Court meant spending several nights in prison, and even though he should have known better, his mouth and fists had brought him more trouble inside. He was hurting though, and he wasn't referring to the physical pain from punches and kicks. Those were nothing compared to the ache in his heart at being betrayed by someone he thought he loved, someone he thought loved him in return. Ann was supposed to be The One, but now he realized that she never cared for anyone more than for herself.

"Larkin! You have a visitor."

Jack sighed because he really didn't want to see anyone, especially Ann. He was surprised to see Sally, believing she might distance herself from him now he had lost everything, if only to keep the name of Gardner-Ross clean. Strangely, he was not surprised to see Grant with her and hoped that when he implied Sally should go and forget about him that Grant would go too. He didn't want Grant in this place, seeing more of Grant's innocence stripped away. Sally left but Grant remained, taking her seat but Jack could see the empathy in Grant's eyes as he saw the sobbing woman in the other booth; the wife of the guy who'd given him his black eye and other bruises too numerable to mention.

"Grant! Don't look." He sighed when Grant got up and tried to offer the woman a handkerchief, saw the sadness in Grant's eyes as she pushed past him with her children. Grant sat back down and Jack wondered how such a gentle person could survive in this world and not end up hard and embittered like himself.

"You shouldn't look. The guy's a hard ass, and if he thinks you're coming onto his wife, he'll make my life in here even more hell than it is already."

Grant's eyes widened in horror. "Did he...?" He waved towards Jack's damaged face.

Jack winced but didn't deny it. "You need to go, Grant." Those naive eyes took on a confused look. "Sally's waiting for you."

"Oh! I'll...I'll come back tomorrow."

"No. I don't want you here, Grant. I don't want you to see all this."

It was the kicked puppy look but Jack strengthened his resolve not to have Grant come back here, knowing it was the only way to protect Grant from the harsher side of prison life that he'd experienced when he was fifteen.

When Jack crawled into his bunk that night, he expected his thoughts to be on Ann, and on how she had orchestrated his downfall, leading him to the fight with Vic Kenilworth. It was just business to her, and maybe that was where they had always differed because it was never just business to him. He saw the people behind the business transaction and tried to do good by them even when he was taking their money. He never left anyone destitute, homeless and friendless.

Destitute maybe. Homeless, certainly, but he had a feeling that Grant would never allow him to be friendless.

Thoughts of Grant overtook those of Ann, and he hated that Grant had been dragged into the seedier side by Jack's actions. He knew he would have to make it up to Grant somehow, if he survived the remaining two days in this place.

The knife at his throat startled him from his thoughts, and he dared not breath again until the man had said his piece and moved off just as silently as he arrived.

Jack began to shake as soon as the man was gone. Perhaps it was old memories of being in prison for six months as a fifteen-year-old, of being abused by those who sought power even among the dregs of society. He recalled their hard bodies holding him down, doing things to him that he had learned to like in later years, but that had been painful and degrading in that place. The fear threatened to overwhelm him and he tried to force his thoughts away from this place, from the walls closing in around him, failing until he focused on his memory of Grant; on wide, innocent blue eyes, on his generosity and his compassionate nature.

Those thoughts morphed into better memories, of male lovers who had shown him that sex with a man didn't have to be pain and humiliation, that it could be as fun and pleasurable as with a woman. Startled, he realized that he wished he could teach Grant, knowing Grant trusted him enough to let him do anything he wanted. He wanted to touch Grant, hold him safely in his arms. He wanted to hide Grant away from the rest of the world, letting no one else close enough to harm him. Jack wanted to kiss his sweet lips, a little saddened to know they would no longer taste of chocolate because of Grant's caffeine intolerance.

Quietly, so no one would overhear him, Jack slipped a hand into his pajama bottoms and stroked himself to full hardness. He let his thoughts hold onto the feel of Grant, heavy in his arms, imagining the softness of his skin and the small whimpers of need that would fall from the slightly down-tilted mouth. He would muffle Grant's soft cries with hard kisses, drawing them both over the edge in a silence broken only by the whisper of skin on skin. He came hard, biting into the pillow to muffle his own cry of pleasure, and remained still for a long time, letting his racing heart slow down before searching out a handkerchief to wipe away the mess.

Only two days and one more night and he would be free of this place, and if he did manage to survive until he was released on bail, then Jack wondered if it was time to make his feelings known to Grant.

Two days later, when he stepped from the prison, he heard Grant calling his name. He'd learned about the deal _his boyfriend_ had made to protect him inside, paying off his bully by offering a steady income to support the man's sobbing wife and children. Even as part of him burned with anger at Grant's interference and the further loss of innocence, his heart cried out in joy at knowing Grant would never abandon their friendship, and would do anything within his power to help him.

When he saw Ann standing near Grant, Jack froze as their eyes met. He'd found some form of release in prison, discovered that his feelings for Grant ran far deeper than he could have imagined, and the thought had set him free. Yet, as he stared into Ann's eyes, he felt the bars of his self-made prison close around him once more and knew he had to walk away before she pulled him back into her treacherous arms.

Perhaps one day he would be able to tell Grant how much he loved him but, for now, he knew he would find no release.

END


End file.
